


When the Lights Fade Out

by star_child



Series: University of Tokyo [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, art student kenma, i tried to make this one Soft, idk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 15:06:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6013276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/star_child/pseuds/star_child
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kuroo just wanted to take a nap.<br/>He hadn’t counted on the door being already unlocked.<br/>(No one broke in for toothpaste and shaving cream.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	When the Lights Fade Out

**Author's Note:**

> happy valentines day!

Kuroo just wanted to take a nap. That was all he’d wanted to do.

His day had been torturously long – four classes, three tests, a project assigned in the last one due next week, and he thought he was going to _die_ during practice. So he’d been looking forward to collapsing on his bed, blissfully alone in his tiny apartment, and sleeping until dinner.

He hadn’t counted on the door being already unlocked when he got there.

Instantly on high alert, he opens the door slowly, thankful that it doesn’t creak on its hinges. Nothing appears to be wrong in the living room; his pull out couch is a mess of blankets and pillows from when Bokuto ended up crashing here last night, his tv and xbox sit on the floor across the room. Nothing in the tiny kitchen area is worth checking on; who’s gonna steal his microwave and week old containers of takeout food? All he has is plastic silverware and some cheap shit he stole from one of the campus cafeterias; no one is killing him with that.

The front area cleared, he tiptoes past the bathroom (no one broke in for toothpaste and shaving cream) and stops in front of his bedroom door. He takes a deep breath, then kicks in open with a loud yell of, “HAH!!”

Kenma stares back at him, unimpressed.

“Oh,” Kuroo says dumbly, standing up straight. “Hi.”

“Hey.”

The initial scare of a potential intruder begins to ebb away, but Kuroo doesn’t feel any more relaxed as his eyes slide down Kenma’s body, sitting casually on his bed, and take in what he’s wearing. Or rather, a mix of what he is and _isn’t_ wearing.

There’s nothing covering his thighs but a pair of black and gray boxer shorts, his pale legs bent at the knees with his toes tucked under the bunched up comforter at the end of the bed. He’s wearing a plain black shirt with a faded logo that he can’t make out from here, and – rest in pieces – Kuroo’s old Nekoma jacket. It positively dwarfs the younger boy, drooping around his slim wrists and bunching all the way up his arms, though he can still make out _Kuro_ embroidered on the side of the arm. Kenma is just sitting against the head board, attention back on the large sketchpad in his lap like he isn’t giving Kuroo chest pains.

“What are you doing here?” Kuroo finally manages to ask.

“Shouyou had Tobio over.”

“And… Why aren’t you wearing pants…?”

Kenma shrugs. “I’d been in bed.”

“And you didn’t bother to put any on?”

The younger boy glances up from his work momentarily to eye Kuroo. “I’m just down the hall you know, what are the odds I’d run into someone in the fifteen seconds it takes me to walk from my place to your’s?” He looks back at his drawing. “And it’s not like I’m completely naked.”

“You’re wearing my jacket.”

“I got cold.”

Kuroo takes a deep breath, nodding and mulling over this information. Makes enough sense, he supposes. He’d left his own shared apartment with Hinata to give him some space with his boyfriend, and where else was he going to go but here? And he also happens to be sitting there on the bed with all the grace and beauty of an angel.

Kuroo drops his bag by his desk and goes over to the bed, leaning back beside Kenma and eyeing the sketch pad in his lap. From the looks of it he started not long ago, if the rough pencil outlines of everything are anything to go by. “What are you drawing?” Kuroo asks softly. The afternoon sunlight is filtering in through the curtain, painting the room in a soft glow, and he feels the need to keep the atmosphere quiet.

“It’s for Drawing From Life.” Kenma matches his gentle tone. “I have to draw a person I love or trust or feel comfortable with.”

“Who are you drawing?”

“You,” Kenma says casually, and Kuroo ignores the way his chest clenches at the answer.

The silence has already stretched on for a bit too long when Kuroo murmurs, “Thanks,” but Kenma puts down his sketchbook and nestles his way into the taller boy’s arms anyway, head on his chest and eyes drifting shut. They both sleep till dinner.

**Author's Note:**

> up next: intro to iwaoi's story


End file.
